


Beau et Belyy Medved

by RusCanWonderland



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Beauty and the Beast, Bestiality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RusCanWonderland/pseuds/RusCanWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Czar of Russia, Ivan Braginski, is a cold man, a frigid man, cursed by an enchantress who believes that his cold heart can be melted with love. Matthew, sent on the behest of his father, might be the last chance that the man has to lift the spell, if he can swallow his pride enough to open his heart. (Beauty and the Beast AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.
> 
> Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings: We do not own Hetalia or characters within.
> 
> Warnings: REFERENCED BESTIALITY
> 
> Notes: In this reenactment of Beauty and the Beast, Ivan has been transformed into a polar bear. For obvious reasons we have the bestiality warning.

In the year 1890 Czar Ivan Braginski was attending a grand party, celebrating his silver jubilee as sovereign ruler of Russia. Wifeless, childless, cold and with a taste for blood and young boys, it was quite shocking that the man had lived to see his fortieth birthday, much less twenty-five years as Czar without someone assassinating him. 

The party had been suitably exciting, with dancing and food and drink to spare. Ladies dressed in their finery, their breasts displayed like white doves in their dresses as they wandered, hoping to catch the eye of some noble or other. Many didn’t set their sights high enough to attempt to capture the attention of the Czar himself, as he was busy with smiling frigidly as he toyed with the hair of his servant, who trembled and looked for all the world like he wished to turn his face away.

But the monstrously huge man was nothing if possessive and those violet eyes were cold enough without anger behind them. He looked like some sort of giant from a fairy tale legend, towering over the other people, his entire body wrapped in an elaborate ice blue coat, dripping with silver adornments and lined with enough white fur to keep him warm in the cold wasteland outside. His black hair was slightly mussed, his silver and sapphire crown perched on his head, despite the discomfort it caused him. He moved with the terrifying grace of some great predator as he led the trembling little manservant towards the entrance of the ballroom, his intentions to the poor boy bright in those unearthly eyes, none brave enough to stop his movements for the sake of propriety or even the boy himself. 

But one woman did step forward to stop the man, hunched and gnarled, her finger held out to point at the Czar. “You take this poor boy to warm your bed? Yet your heart is frozen, Ivan. As desolate and cold as Russia itself.” The man frowned and stood as the music stuttered to a halt, looking over the elderly woman still dressed in the finery of the court, stopping just in front of her.

“Who are you?” The man snarled, pushing his coat back slightly to rest his hand on the pommel of his sword, looking like he fully considered cutting her down where she stood. 

“Who I am doesn’t matter.” The woman grinned, showing off gapped teeth and blackened gums. “But I am your reckoning.”

“Insolent sow.” The man snapped, his hand shooting out to strike her, only for the limb to be lifted to sheild his eyes when a blinding light erupted from the woman’s eyes. 

She grew taller than any human, taller than the Czar himself, her robes billowing out about her as her voice, layered and echoing, filled the ballroom over the screams and cries of alarm from the party-goers. Her eyes directed the firey light of judgement and justice down on the man, beginning to speak as the man howled and roared in pain.

“There is nothing but ice and cruelty in your heart. And for that you might have once been killed. But I shall make you suffer more than that while offering you a chance at redemption.”

Bone snapped and people watched in horror as their Czar fell to his knees, his black hair turning silvery white, covering his head and face, hands and back as the burning agony of his transformation sent him sprawling on the floor.

“You shall be given twenty-five years, in the form of a beast, not to age in those years. If you cannot find one that you could honestly love, and who can love you for who you are, in that twenty-fifth year your spell will be sealed and you shall spend eternity as a beast.”

The Czar roared in rage, violet eyes wide as his bones cracked and snapped and reformed, his form gaining more mass in a matter of moments, everything aching as he screamed and the sound turned to a bear’s roar, his body rearing up on hind legs as he roared into the air, holding up his paws and watching as the witch, fairy, enchantress, lifted her hands and gave a wave to the crowd around her.

There was an explosion of heat and the people screamed in terror as they burst into corpses burned from the force of the magic, nothing but ash and brittle, blackened bones.

The spell launched outwards from there, the palace’s rose garden stretching and surrounding the entire gate until there was only one entrance in and out, forced closed by the branches of the rose trees, the peasantry surrounding the palace screaming as they stared out at the blinding light that emanated like a second sun from the palace, shouting for the police, for soldiers as they pointed to the horrifying sight of the palace becoming decrepit before their very eyes, the roars of a monstrous animal filling their ears as they watched. 

And the rage of the last Czar of Russia gave out slowly as the years passed, the words of the enchantress’ spell ringing through the beast’s ears as he survived and hid within his palace. 

The rage was replaced with even more ice and cold and a new loneliness that hadn’t been present before and the man turned monster resigned himself to the fact that he would forever remain as he was.

For who could ever learn to love a beast?

—

It was a brisk February in 1914, and Francis Bonnefoy was nearly broke. 

A crippled ballet dancer that had lost most of his fortune over the years, the man had little to support his own lavish lifestyle, much less the young son still training in ballet dormitories of the Paris Opera theatre. Yet he tried not to think of that as he pulled a long drag from a cigarette, laughing with the rather wealthy Mademoiselle Marianne and her mother, Madame Marie Gabrielle, in a small restaurant, his own son perched beside him in the height of French fashion as they listened to the young woman’s account of how she had visited Russia on her mother’s behest, the past month spent in a miserable empty palace in what she had finally come to realize must have been a joke on the behalf of the Russian government. 

“There was nothing but tattered drapes, the food went rotten within hours after cooking it and I swear there was some sort of wild animal milling about the entire time. Whatever reward they’re offering for whatever task they refuse to reveal was certainly not worth those disgusting conditions.” The young girl’s lips pursed in a pretty little pout, her lips pinkened by paint and her cheeks rouged delicately. Her breasts were proudly on display and every so often Francis allowed himself to flick his gaze down to them, when the attention was focused on their drinks or the madame at the table. 

“Hmph, not as if that country can afford many jokes so there must be a handsome reward.” Francis smirked around his cigarette before letting out a puff of smoke, his perfume would cover up the fumes nicely, the delicate rose scent soaked through all of his clothing and dabbed through his skin and hair as well. “That Lenin character might put a stop to these little trips that foreigners can make into Russia, ever since the government changed to that communist travesty they’ve been even more tight-lipped about why they need to import young people and then just toss them back.” 

Madame Marie Gabrielle nodded and hummed as she shifted. “They’ve been becoming more selective too.” The woman smirked. “If you can’t buy your way in they don’t give you a second glance.” She was an attractive woman, about Francis’ age, but she had aged decidedly less gracefully than the man. She would flutter her eyes at him every so often and perhaps he should show more interest back, but she wasn’t quite his taste either. 

Matthew had been on these outings with his father for almost as long as he could remember. His mother had came from overseas, somewhere in the America’s, Francis never did say from where, and had met his father during their time in the Opera. Francis was a young, aspiring dancer, almost androgynous enough to pass as either male or female, and his mother, a short, charmingly curvy thing that climbed the cat walks better than any man and painted backdrops and sets that were triple her size.

She courted him, no matter what Francis had to say, and through fate and an awful lot of good persuasion, they fell in love, married even, and had a son. No one doted over the child more than the proud mother did, and for once, nothing had made Francis more happy than his wife and child. 

But of course, as the former dancer would still lament today, that nothing happy and wonderful lasts forever. She had died in the early morning one winter, defeated by a sickness that stole her pretty curves and warm glow. She had never stopped smiling though death had lingered for months, but the moment Francis had seen her smile fade for the last time, hope and joy seemed to fade with her.   
His focus on dance dwindled, and during a fateful performance, his career was virtually over. Former instructors felt badly for him and offered him the opportunity to teach, but he made the deal that when his son became of age to enter the ballet dormitories, he would be allowed in without question.

Matthew, in turn, had known nothing else.

His features; his father’s charming, graceful beauty, and his mother’s sweet, round and warm appearance, left him looking even more the part of angelic dancer than his father ever had. Francis, quietly envious of his son, had spent the majority of his fortune on surrounding himself in things that would make him happy; lavish clothes, exquisite meals, and sparkling jewels that he’d wear in hopes of attracting a naive, rich dame that would share her marvelous fortune with him in exchange for him to share her bed; while Matthew grew up among hopeful girls and a few boys that knew little more than jete’s, plies, and pirouettes. 

He enjoyed dance, really, he did, but more often than not he found himself dreaming of lands he feared he’d never get to see other than in pictures or wondering what it was like to have a day not full of tireless rehearsals and to spend a night not lonely and cold in his issued bed. The only times he got to go out on the allowed days of rest were with his father to these luncheons or dinners that he was dressed up and put on display like a doll as Francis attempted to charm and bewitch a potential wife with a hefty bank account. 

With most of these outings, Matthew didn’t pay much attention to the idle chit chat that passed between pretty lips and smiling eyes. It was all fake and painfully polite and Matthew had heard these conversations time and time again. Usually, he’d sneak books to the table that he would place in his lap and read, most of the time unnoticed by everyone in attendance. Today, Francis had caught on early, and Matthew’s beloved fairy tale was held aside and he was forced to at least pretend he was paying attention. 

When the conversation turned towards the legend of the Czar in the frozen palace, desolate and alone and heavy with rumors, Matthew peered up, suddenly interested. He didn’t understand the intense commodity with going and attempting to live alone, with or without a mysterious beast, in order to receive some sort of otherworldly prize. Most of Europe was treating the idea of going to this palace as a glamorous affair; romantic and gossiped about. 

But if the only candidates that were allowed into the palace now were those that could afford it, Matthew feared that the entire situation had just become an attraction. Clearing his throat in thought, he gave his cooling tea a little swirl with a small silver spoon, as he felt his father’s eyes flicker over to him. 

“….perhaps the prize was at the expense of those stupid enough to buy into their legend. No real fairy tale like they say this is charges the heroine to fall in love with the prince,” he hummed, earning a glare from the young Mademoiselle across from him. Matthew met the look with level calm as he took a sip of his drink and ignored the slight nudge from his father’s elbow. 

“Besides, doesn’t the rumors say that the Czar supposedly fancies males?”

“Perhaps you should go and attempt to charm a fortune out of him?” The Madame laughed softly, perhaps only in jest, or perhaps not. “Such a horrible scandal, and no one ever questioned his preferences.”

“Supposedly he was terrifying even before he was locked up.” Marianne pointed out. “Now he’s probably wallowing in that horrible palace, disgusting and old.” The girl took another delicate sip of her tea. 

Matthew frowned softly, a delicate furrow of his eyebrows that may or may not have tinted his eyes a darker shade of blue as the corner of his mouth down turned softly. “I don’t suppose you would look as lovely as a rose if you were cursed and left alone in the cold for 25 years…‘“Matthew lightly fussed back, earning himself a glare from his father. 

"No one is unhappy without reason," he added, uncaring if the impression he was leaving of himself on the two women was unpleasant. They didn’t have to put up with Matthew should a faux romance commence, only Francis. "And you cannot tell me that you wouldn’t be wallowing in loneliness if you were so unlucky to have received the awful fate he has. It’s cruel to make fun of him for it."

“If there’s any merit to the rumors then he deserves to be lonely and cold.” Marianne pointed out, only for her mother’s eyes to light up as she placed a hand on Francis’ sleeve.

“Oh, Francis! Why don’t I pay for Matthew to go? It would be a lovely trip even with the plight of having to stay in that palace.” The woman smiled at the boy. “And who knows, maybe the man would like the company of a handsome young boy?”

Francis looked slightly stunned and conflicted as he looked from the woman to his son then back to her. “How generous, Madame.”

“Nonsense, you don’t have the money to send him, and the poor boy could use a break from the dormitories anyway.” The woman smiled and beamed at Matthew. “And such fire might be appreciated in Russia.”


	2. Chapter 2

"But Papa, I don’t want to go," Matthew huffed as he maneuvered through the dark enclosed back of the opera house. He had just finished a performance as part of the chorus of dancers and his face was flushed slightly as he unpinned his hair from the slight up do the ballet had required. 

"It can’t be real, what all these stupid ladies are claiming…"

“Be that as it may Madame Marie Gabrielle has offered the fun your trip and I will not let you refuse.” Francis frowned. “Besides, you’ve always wanted to travel.”

"Yes, but to enjoy myself. Not to be stuck in a frozen castle that may or may not house a dangerous animal," he sighed and turned to his father, gently reaching to take his hands. "Papa,…I know that you think they mean well but…" He sighed and shook his head.

"Don’t make me do something I don’t want to…"

Francis sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Matthew… Whether or not you get whatever mythical reward from the Russian government… I’m going to marry Madame Marie Gabrielle… And I don’t want to refuse her generous offer and insult her in such a way.” The older male straightened and frowned down at Matthew. “You’re going and that is final.”

Matthew glared down at the worn dancer shoes in his hand, his jaw clenching and his eyes burning, before he shoved them into Francis’ hold and turned away. “It is nice to know, Papa, that you consider your new…wife’s feelings before you consider mine,” he huffed and turned to go onto the dancers’ dressing room, closing the door with a slam. 

He knew he couldn’t win, but he also didn’t have to be happy about it as a week later he was kissing his teachers goodbye and getting into carriage that would take he and Francis to the nearest train station in downtown Paris. He hadn’t said too much to his Papa in the days since the confrontation, but he figured there wasn’t more that could’ve been said.

At the train station Francis ran his fingers through Matthew’s hair, gnawing at his lower lip as he looked over his son with a pained expression, cupping pale cheeks and pulling the slightly taller male to his chest and gave him a tight hug, kissing his cheeks and pulling back. “Write me every week, oui?”

Matthew sighed softly, searching his Papa’s eyes that were so very close to his own. His father had been struggling for years with money being the center of it along with what Matthew liked to call his depression. He knew that Francis wouldn’t be pushing this if he didn’t think that perhaps the fortune would be worth it in the end. If anything, Matthew only had his father, and he loved him dearly…he should want to do whatever he could to make him happy.

“Oui, Papa, I’ll write whenever I can,” he hummed, hugging the older man again as the whistle of the train in the station blew loudly and a man stepping off the metal stairway called for “all aboard!”.

He gave Francis a small smile as he pulled away from him and picked up his things, man making his way to the ticket man and handing his over. He found his seat and settled in, not wanting to wave goodbye to Francis who he didn’t even know if he’d still be waiting on the platform. He sighed and closed his eyes as he felt the train start to move and mentally prepared himself for the long journey ahead.

It wasn’t until Matthew had to trade trains at Ukraine and had to show his papers did anyone realize what he was doing. 

The soldiers that filled the car along with laughed and grinned as they harassed the blonde. “So so, you’re going to the Czar’s?”

“You’re just his type too, his old lover was about your size.”

“So what’s your story? Need money?”

“Does it matter what my story is? I’m sure it can’t be much different than what everyone else said before me,” he glared softly at the group of men, mentally telling himself not to be too harsh. People couldn’t help their stupidity sometimes, and Matthew was not to judge them. Thought he really…really wanted to knock those smug looks and leering smiles off of their faces.

“Probably.” One man laughed. “So… Anyone told you exactly what he looks like?”

“Oh, don’t tell me…you’ve been, too?” Matthew cooed, giving them a bored look.

The man gave a playful salute. “We’re the delivery service for the palace. We bring in vittles and perform any repairs to the fencing and occasionally bring in fresh meat.” The man leaned forward. “And he’s turned into a real bear. He’s huge. You sometimes see him in the windows or if you go into the kitchen he watches from the hall.”

Matthew wrinkled his nose as he leaned away from the soldier, his body shifting to press closer to the freezing glass of the window at his side. “…Yes, I’m sure. A real bear to go along with all that real alcohol that clouds one’s judgement,” he hummed, tilting his head away as a strange sense of worry started to swell in his chest. They must’ve been mistaken…a bear could not possibly be what was there…

There began an argument among the men, shouting out more rumors and elaborations, a few small truths mixed in as the young man that had started it all sat beside Matthew and grinned, hands holding the barrel of his gun as he leaned over to talk to Matthew.

“It’s true. A couple of decades back the Czar was cursed by a fairy. And she said that he had twenty-five years to break the spell by falling in love.” The man grinned. “Or else he’d spend forever as a beast.”

“And with all of these “lovely” ladies that have come to his castle, not one in twenty-five years was the one?” Matthew asked, giving the man a long sideways look. “If perhaps they didn’t advertise this as some sort of twisted attraction, maybe it’d give the man a chance to end his curse.” He tilted his head to fully look at the soldier, unimpressed. 

“Not like Lenin gives anyone the option. Russian children get sent to and from the palace so frequently that there isn’t a single child in the country that hasn’t visited.” The soldier smirked. “And even a Frenchman should know… The man had the taste for young boys.” Eyes swept over Matthew before the smirk widened. “And with your pretty self, you might get a chance to glimpse him yourself.”

Matthew swallowed hard as he tilted his head to peer at the window, the snow and frost from outside sticking to the glass and nearly blocking his view of the moving countryside. “…I doubt that love would be the answer with me,…I only feel sorry for wasting his time.”

It was about half a day before they arrived in St. Petersburg, the blonde escorted to a supply truck where he was set upon by another soldier with a large bouquet of roses, tying the blooms to blonde curls and grinning as he explained that “the Czar liked the smell of them.”

The palace itself loomed above the gate, the entirety of the building empty, the front door opened and snow fluttering inside as the soldiers brought supplies into the kitchen and arranged them, keeping sharp eyes out for the occupant of the palace.

“…you are all scared yet you are going to leave me here alone?” Matthew fussed, giving the men a little glare as he maneuvered through the kitchen and stepped into the threshold of the hallway leading away from the room the soldiers were in. He couldn’t see too far into whatever lied at the end of the threshold, but he could see torn and billowing curtains and overturned furniture. 

“You’re probably in the safest place in the world.” The soldier that had kept Matthew company the entire trip gave the young man a pat on the shoulder. “In twenty five years he’s never harmed one of his suitors.” The soldier smiled. “You’ll be fine. We come back every week. I’ll check up on you.”

Matthew gave him a little smile and nodded, his hands coming up to brush along his arms. It was very cold, both inside and out, but Matthew hoped that perhaps the longer he was there the more used to it he would became. He watched the soldiers bid him a stiff goodbye before he was left alone.

Swallowing hard, Matthew turned to peer back down the hallway before gathering his courage and moving forward. He was careful not to touch anything, but even in this first hallway, Matthew couldn’t help but notice the overabundance of mirrors. 

He let out a shuddering sigh as he entered a type of entrance foyer; a tall ceiling room that at one point Matthew imagined to be beautiful. He noticed ripped up paintings and shattered glass…but above everything he noticed, was the emptiness. It was stifling. 

There was a large painting at the end of the hallway, the face torn and clawed, the rest of it revealing a man in immaculate attire, his robes made of white fur and icy blue brocade and silks, broad chest decorated in medals of honor and in his hand a scepter while the other rested on the edge of a table.

Matthew only had a few moments to stare at the painting before there was a low growl from nearby and blue eyes were drawn up to the landing of the elaborate staircase behind the painting, an enormous white polar bear standing on all fours as it stared down at the boy.  
Hand freezing in mid air as he held it out to move some of the ripped pieces of canvas to better see the face in the painting, Matthew gasped as he turned around and peered up the stairs. He took a step backwards as he pressed his fingers to his parted lips, suddenly feeling the fire and spark the Madame had spoken of leave him completely. The soldier’s were telling the truth,…there really was a polar bear.

But were they also telling the truth that he was safest here?

The creature descended the stairs, paws thudding heavily on the marble until he reached the foyer and stood on it’s hind legs, bright violet eyes staring down at the human before the smooth, oval head leaned forward and sniffed at the air around the blonde. A short, irritated growl came from the creature before it landed back on it’s paws and lumbered out of the room towards the kitchen, obviously more interested in food than the boy.

Matthew trembled slightly as he watched the bear move away, his heart racing and pounding in his ears. He brought a hand up to touch the top of his head and tangled his fingers in the roses wound around his curls and sighed. Apparently, the superstition had worked, for now, and at the moment, all Matthew wanted to do was create distance between he and the bear. He had emotions and thoughts to collect as well as a harsh reality to face, all on his own and all in this terribly empty palace. Shakily, he ascended the stairs, glancing back every so often to see if the bear was coming his way yet before choosing to go down the hall that seemed to be virtually untouched by claw marks and broken objects.

There was a room set up for the blonde, with a made bed decorated with stitched on roses on the blankets and pillows and an elaborate white and silver furniture set. There was a fireplace with the glowing embers of a flame within, obviously meant to be fed when the room was occupied. The room was nice, very nice, but across from the bed was a single large mirror with the glass broken, creating a disjointed image of the entire room and the person in the bed or before the fire. 

The room, as lovely as it was, did nothing for Matthew’s nerves. He placed down the things he had brought with him before cautiously stepping forward to run his hand over the stitched on roses. They were lovely, sweet,…but felt completely out of place in this dark, cold palace. He sighed as he pulled his coat off and gently placed it down. He didn’t know what to do now…did he attempt to speak to the bear that…really didn’t want him there but didn’t seem to mind? Or did he just wait until the creature sought him out all on its own. 

Tentatively, he settled on the bed and reveled in the warmth coming from the fire place and sighed. His body curled up slightly on the far end, furthest from the door. He didn’t know what to do…and reality was starting to hit him cold and square in the chest.


	3. Chapter 3

The first week was uneasy, with the bear either ignoring or growling at the boy throughout the days and when the soldiers returned with more supplies the young man that had first brought Matthew over was searching for him, eventually finding him inside the library. “Well? How has the week been?”

Matthew, above all things, looked tired. He gave the soldier a kind, little smile as he placed down the book he had been looking at and stood, a hand smoothing at his sleeves to fuss out invisible wrinkles. “….quiet. It’s…difficult to…know what to do,” he breathed, worrying his bottom lip a little bit. “…he growls at me when I see him, then avoids me all the other times,” he smiled a little, shrugging up a shoulder. 

“I’m starting to think it’s a competition to see who can last in silence the longest….and he’s been winning for twenty-four years.”

The soldier chuckled. “He has. He’s a stubborn bastard. I’m almost certain that he wants to stay a bear… But still. I talked with my commander, asking him about the Czar.” The soldier held out a vinyl record, smiling at the blonde. “He loved ballet… Perhaps you can tempt him with that once he’s gotten past the growling phase.” The soldier rubbed his neck before shrugging. “He also liked tea and vodka… Try that?”

That evening, the lumbering creature poked his head into the kitchen, sniffing at the scent of black caravan tea as he lifted himself onto his hind legs to look out at the counter, where Matthew was standing with a pot of the drink, violet eyes glued on the pot for a moment before the bear looked over at the human’s face, suspicion coloring his face even as a bear.

Matthew, as scared as he might have been, held his ground, his body attempting to relax as he peered sideways at the bear’s face. A week of loneliness, of emptiness, was already grating on Matthew, and the feel of something..someone nearby felt nice, as scared as he was.

“Don’t…look at me like that. It’s only tea,” Matthew hummed softly, carefully, as he opened the top of the kettle and gave the hot liquid inside a careful stir. “….would you like some?” he asked softly, chancing a little smile at the animal.

The bear gave a huff and a growl before standing on his hind legs and giving a small grumbled at the human before managing to plop down on his rear in front of the counter, sitting with his forepaws scrabbling at the counter and his chin resting on the edge as he stared at the cup of tea and let out a low noise that was close to a whine.

Matthew instantly felt sorry for the creature. He resisted the urge to pet gently at the soft fur of the animal’s head, and instead hummed softly as he gently picked up the kettle. “…I know you want some…but you can’t exactly hold a cup,” he mused, stepping gently around the animal’s form. He bit his lip before pouring some into a shallow dinner saucer, eyebrows knit as he knelt beside the bear. 

“I suppose this isn’t very…proper, is it?” he asked softly, the saucer resting on his knees. 

The bear gave him a look before turning and placing his paws on the ground. He gave Matthew a look before letting out a loud bleating roar, watching the human before he began to lap at the saucer of tea, licking at his own nose when finished and looking expectantly at Matthew before tilting his head to the teapot on the counter again.

Matthew pouted slightly at the bear, giving him what he liked to think was a stern look. “Don’t roar at me…I’m right here,” he huffed, before straightening a little to grasp the kettle. He sat on his bottom on the floor, the saucer in his lap so he could pour him more and drink his own. “There…”

The bear happily lapped at the tea some more, after a few minutes lifting his head to simply stare at the human, nose twitching and eyes completely focused on Matthew, the bear not growling or moving as he stared at the human. 

Compared to Matthew the beast was enormous, easily a head taller than him, even sitting down, weighing probably a couple hundred pounds more as well.

Biting his bottom lip, Matthew gave the bear a little smile as he lowered the cup he was taking tentative sips out of. “I’m Matthew,” he introduced softly, realizing the bear really didn’t know who he was. “I’m sorry if I….I’m not familiar with what to call you.” He gave the bear a hopeless smile before looking away from the intense color of the animal’s eyes. 

The bear gave a small roar and pawed at the floor for a moment, snuffling and capturing Matthew’s sleeve in his mouth before giving a small tug before leading the blonde towards the staircase, lumbering up the stairs until he could nose at the painting hanging from it’s hook, the image clattering to the floor. 

A name written in black paint resided on the back of the painting. 

Czar Ivan Marcovich Braginski

The bear gave a soft whine and a short roar, standing on hind legs and staring down at the human pridefully.

Matthew let out a soft “oh!” as the painting tumbled to the floor. He made to straighten it as he got a good look of the back, his eyes tilting up to peer at the bear’s face. “Ivan…? “ for some reason, speaking to the bear and actually having something to call him made him feel better…not so alone. He smiled a little and rested the painting against the wall, chancing a glance at the painting’s face. From what he could see, the man was handsome, tall….pretty to look at but the fierce, frozen look in his eyes was enough to send anyone reeling. Matthew only felt bad as he attempted not to give the bear a sympathetic smile. 

“I’m….glad I have something to call you now,” he smiled and straightened a little, his hands running over his arms. 

The bear let out a brief roar before making his way back down the stairs before moving through the hallways to one of the larger rooms here a couple of mattresses and a few blankets had been dragged, torn and dirty but still comfortable as the bear laid down on them and let out a soft huff.

Matthew watched the creature go before sighing softly and tilting his head to peer at the Czar’s face. If Matthew looked hard enough he could see the same shame of the eyes, and a similar expression. He sighed and shook his head, going to retreat back to his room, his eyes tilted down so he didn’t have to see all of the shattered mirrors on the way.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been another week before Matthew sought out the record player that would play the music the solder had given him. He was getting slightly restless, so it wasn’t too terrible of an idea to put on some of his dance shoes he had brought with him before he sought out the empty, dusty ballroom. He hadn’t seen Ivan that morning yet, but he figured the bear was still sleeping. He placed the record carefully in the player before placing the needle on the vinyl, a soft smile spreading on his face as music filled the empty, lonely space.

The door he left cracked as he began to stretch, his hands reaching back to pin up his hair in what he felt most comfortable with as he let his eyes close and moved where and how the music wanted him to.

The music pricked at Ivan’s ears, the bear lifting his head at the new noise, following the sound until he found the blonde in the ballroom, standing and watching the human with interest. When he recognized the sequence from Giselle, mixed in with elements of Swan Lake and Cinderella and a myriad of other dances that the blonde was performing his eyes became more interested, fixing on the boy and following his movements, careful and delicate and beautiful. 

As much as Matthew may have been..fed up with dancing, he enjoyed being free of the watchful eyes of his teachers, or the judgemental smiles of his classmates. Here, alone, he could dance the way he wanted to; he could move and jump and twirl without getting told he was doing it wrong or that he just wasn’t good enough. 

He smiled as his arms extended, soft and angled with his body before he took another step and started to pirouette, his eyes opening for a moment and spying Ivan in the doorway.

But he wasn’t a bear…he was a man.

Startled, Matthew’s movements came to a halt and he nearly stumbled onto the floor, his eyes wide and round and disbelieving as he stared at the bear in the doorway. He wasn’t just seeing things…it had looked exactly like the picture.

“Ivan…? I …didn’t see you there,” he tried to cover himself, reaching up to tuck an escaped curl behind his ear.

The bear let out a soft roar, flopping onto the ground and folding his front paws, resting his chin on them and giving a heavy sigh before watching the human expectantly, the music still playing loudly through the player.

Still a little startled, Matthew nodded and gave the bear a shaky smile before he turned his back to him and padded gracefully to the center of the room. A pas de deux began to play, soft and lovely, and Matthew’s eyes slid closed, his arms extending and his hands settling to where his imaginary partner might have held them. If the Czar enjoyed dancing, Matthew could dance for him, if it meant the beast could be happy if just for a moment. 

He highly doubted love would blossom between them in Matthew’s time there, but so far, things hadn’t gone too badly. Throwing his thoughts out of his mind, Matthew continued to move, careful to readjust some steps or turns or leaps that required the anchorage or the strength of his partner to move him.

Ivan watched Matthew move with a pleasured sigh, taking in the ballet dancer before him and recalling nights at the Bolshoi ballet. And as he watched Matthew he couldn’t help but think that perhaps the blonde was quite attractive. So quiet and with such pretty blonde curls. He was also respectful, he hadn’t wandered into Ivan’s half of the palace and he could hardly help when his mind instantly wondered at the pale skin that was constantly covered. 

It had, after all, been twenty-four years since he had been so close to someone he found mildly attractive.

Finishing the lonely pas de deux, Matthew tilted his head, his eyes slowly opening to peer at Ivan. For some reason, he appeared…slightly smaller, but no more less frightening, the soft, appreciative look in the bear’s eyes causing Matthew to relax slightly. His fingers extended gracefully, almost beckoning the bear…the man to dance with him, though the sane, realistic part of his brain declared that feat impossible. Instead, he smiled at him, quietly wandering just a little bit closer.

“I’m sorry..I’m a little bit rusty.”

The bear let out a low growl before standing on his hind legs, Ivan reaching out and managing to capture the blonde’s shoulders and pulling his small frame close to his heavily furred chest, adjusting his stance before he attempted to waltz with the blonde, large, clumsy paws tapping claws on the floor gently.

Matthew blinked and let out a little noise of surprise, his arms instantly moving to curl around the bear. At first he worried that perhaps the large claws at his shoulders would hurt him, even by accident, but upon realizing that Ivan was trying to be as gentle as he could, Matthew relaxed and curled his fingers in the bear’s soft fur. Their little waltz was slow, and clumsy, but Matthew’s fondness for the Czar seemed to deepen and grow within the few moments they spent moving slowly on the ballroom floor. His head, tentatively and shy, tilted to rest against the bear’s chest for a moment, hearing the strong heartbeat and little rumbled growls in a different way.

After a time Ivan was unable to stand on his hind legs any longer, carefully detaching himself from Matthew and landing on all four paws, causing a small shake to go through the floor and the record to scratch then repeat the last phrase of the song, large violet eyes peering at the human as Ivan shifted into a sitting position, expectantly staring at Matthew as he did so.

“Oh,…yes,” Matthew flushed, hurrying across the space to correct the music that skipped and burbled from the shake. He tilted his head to peer at the bear, hesitant for a moment, before smiling a little at him. “Would you…mm, how about we make a deal?” he asked, crossing the floor before bending slightly at the waist to peer at the round, purple eyes. 

“If you…show me around the palace, I could…make you something to eat? Or…dance for you again?” he asked softly, trying at least to get to know the Czar. He feared no one had even attempted to at least be kind to him. And if anything, everyone deserved that.

Ivan stared at the human for a moment before leaning forward to give his nose a soft lick and roll onto all fours, looking up at Matthew and letting out a brief roar before he lumbered from the ballroom, waiting just outside the door for the human.

Blinking in surprise, body quiet and still for a moment, before he smiled softly and hurried after the bear. He came to stand beside him, hesitantly tracing his fingers lightly on the creature’s head for second before he pulled his hand away, a little embarrassed for doing it in the first place. 

Ivan’s ears flicked back at the touch and a small growl escaped him before he walked forward, leading Matthew through the winding halls and pausing in front of rooms of interest, showing the blonde bedrooms, library, parlor, grand ballroom, a broken down green house and a room that seemed to be filled with every sort of alcohol imaginable.

Matthew was…surprised to say the least when the Czar actually allowed him to go outside, under his watchful eye of course, but out of the walls of the palace nonetheless. The air around the royal grounds was cold and still, the only sound Matthew picking up on being the howl of wind through the forest of trees just past the gate. A light fog covered the ground in all directions, the thickness of it increasing the further and deeper into the woods Matthew could see. To say the least it was foreboding and haunting and Matthew had no intentions of going anywhere near it. 

Rounding a small corner from the back of the broken greenhouse, Matthew was taken aback, a hand coming to press to the base of his neck as his eyes widened. Among the broken statues and fountains whose waters were frozen solid or completely gone altogether was a rose garden; its leaves as bright and verdant as any other well taken care of plant. The blossoms, they were most lovely, in different shades and sizes, making it appear to Matthew that there were very many bushes and their thorny stems had decided to bundle together to create a most stunning spectacle. 

Matthew followed the broken stone path that once wove around the fountains and statues, his shoes crunching lightly over brittle plant bits and traces of snow. It was strange..all other plants in the garden like trees and shrubs were all dead and had been for what appeared to be a long time. The rose bush, some branches extending so high Matthew could actually walk under and be encased in eerie darkness with the beautiful smell of flowers all around him, was the only thing seemingly alive.

There was a bench not far up the path from where the last stems of the roses extended into the dark earth, half of it broken and crumbled, but still wide and safe enough for Matthew to settle on as he brushed leaves and dead petals from his shoes.

There was a new sound added to the silence, the rustle of the leaves of the roses faint, almost masking it, like the whispers of people having a conversation, a large group murmuring over and through one another, repeating certain words or their voices barely rising on occasion in argument. When Ivan finally lumbered around the corner the bear stopped and his ears pinned back, his fur raising and ruffling in aggression as he stared at the rose bush and growled, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as he stared at the plant. The whispers increased for a moment before Ivan stepped forward and swatted at the roots of the bush with a paw, earning a slight hitch in the whispers before they ceased. 

Giving a snort the bear looked at Matthew, his nose moving over the boy’s chest and waist, sniffing at him before he snorted and gave a bob of his head at the reassurance that nothing had happened to the blonde. Grasping the younger male’s sleeve in his mouth again, the bear gave an insistent tug, moving backwards with eyes flicking to the rose bush every so often, nudging Matthew towards the palace again.

The bear released Matthew when they were safely inside, standing on his hind legs and peering out a nearby window before he snorted and returned to all fours, nudging the blonde away from the door and windows with his head before he walked in front of the blonde and away from the foyer. 

He didn’t want Matthew to get tangled in the thorns of that particular trap… Not when the spirit wasn’t exactly benevolent.


	5. Chapter 5

Ivan tugged a long, thick cloak that he had once worn in court, dropping the ermine lined item in front of Matthew and letting out a small roar, nudging the thing towards the shivering little blonde. Winter was harsh even with the comfort of fires, and the little dancer didn’t have layers of fat and fur to aid in the cold. 

The enormous bear was silent for a moment, contemplating leaving then and there before he sighed and laid down beside the boy, curling around him gently and dragging his tongue over the boy’s cheek in what he hoped was a gesture of comfort. 

“Thank…thank you,” Matthew mumbled from between his shivers, the cloak Ivan had brought him being tucked around his shivering form. When the blonde had woken up that morning, he had noticed the chill in the halls but it hadn’t been entirely too uncomfortable with the sun of day lighting the palace, even if just a little bit. But when night had fallen, Matthew found he hadn’t even had the strength to go downstairs for a supper of sorts, his limbs stiff and cold as he trembled under the silken sheets of his bed. 

Matthew thought for sure he would freeze to death and his only regret in that thought was that he’d be disappointing his Papa and nothing else. The ballet had no need for him and Ivan probably wanted him gone already, so death hadn’t looked so scary, so remorseful. 

Ivan coming in to give him a cloak and then having the kindness to settle beside him had surprised Matthew, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful. Whimpering softly, Matthew had turned and stuck his face against Ivan’s fur, his trembling fingers balling into fists against the bear’s side. “You…you don’t have to..have to stay…,” Matthew mumbled, a wry little smile tugging his lips up just slightly. “In fact…if…if you left..I’m certain you..you wouldn’t have to worry about me being…being here anymore.” The blonde let out a trembling little sigh before he shifted to hide his head under the cloak, his cold fingers tucking underneath his chin.

Ivan let out a low noise and sighed, nuzzling against the smaller male’s. He moved until one paw was over Matthew’s body, pulling the small male to his fur and nuzzling at his head and letting out a low growl gently. He didn’t want to leave the blonde, didn’t want him to freeze in the night. He was so soft and gentle and delicate and Ivan wanted to coddle the child. 

Children. They sent him children. Too young to understand their role, to honestly give him what was needed to break the spell. 

It didn’t matter. After this year, after Matthew, it wouldn’t matter who was sent to him or where he was released. He would be a beast the rest of his life.

Ivan sighed, his enormous flank heaving, before he curled until Matthew was a bundle of blankets, cloak and limbs against Ivan’s chest. 

Matthew was silent as his shivers and tremors quieted, his body curled into a ball under all of the blankets that he slowly slid his hands out from. He brushed his hands over Ivan’s head, his fingertips sliding through the strands of silky white fur. Matthew’s head tilted, his cool lips moving closer so he could press a kiss to the bear’s soft muzzle gently.

“Thank you, Ivan….you are…you are very kind,” the blonde mumbled as he pet at the bear’s head before curling back under the blankets and cloak.

Ivan growled at the kiss, nudging his head against Matthew’s gently as his nose pressed to the soft cheek and neck of the blonde, sniffing at him and letting his paw rest on the bed, his thick arm pinning the child onto his back as he did so. Wide violet eyes stared down at the child silently before Ivan pressed his nose to the blonde’s gently, letting out a heavy breath of hot air as he did so. 

“Are…are you trying to scare me?” Matthew asked softly, as he brought a hand up to brush at the bear’s cheeks and the top of his nose. “Ivan…you’ve protected me, kept me safe….and now you’ve saved my life…and I’m to be afraid of you now?” the blonde mumbled, his nose gently, sweetly brushing to the bear’s, before his eyes closed. “I wouldn’t be…even if you ordered me to.”

Ivan’s ears and face perked in a smile as he gave Matthew’s nose a delicate lick, moving to tuck his face and head against Matthew’s neck and shoulder, heaving a contented sigh as he cuddled the blonde close. It felt nice to have someone close, someone to share a bed with… The warmth of Matthew’s slim body and the rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat made Ivan recall previous days, younger times, when he was never wanting for a body to share his bed with… For a brief moment be could imagine that it was that time again… That Matthew was his to have and keep…

Of course that was a ridiculous thought. He was a bear and whatever he might feel or want Matthew would not be inclined to return or even consider… Seeing as he was a bear. 

Matthew smiled softly as he curled close to the bear, his fingers brushing continuously at the bear’s fur as his eyes drooped closed. It was nice…how gentle and kind Ivan was acting…but he didn’t count on it to last. His petting and touches slowed as the blonde fell asleep, his body finally settling from all the shaking and tremors and giving in to the warmth Ivan provided.

—

When Matthew woke the next morning the enormous bear was gone. Laying in his place was a man, wrapped in the fur of a bear, with strong, broad shoulders and arms and a sharply set face, his large, blunt nose pressed gently to Matthew’s throat as his closed eyes flickered with sleep. His fingers were tangled in Matthew’s hair while his arm curled about thin chest and shoulder’s, forcing one of Matthew’s arms to be pinned beneath the man while his other was thrown about those broad, fur-garbed shoulders. 

Matthew, at first, thought he was dreaming. If he was dreaming; then his minds eye of this new Ivan was perfect…wonderful and handsome. But when he realized that he wasn’t dreaming, that he was very much awake and the man laying against him was very much real, panic began to bubble in his chest. 

He wriggled and whimpered and eventually managed to tumble out of the warm bed onto the cold floor, his heart pounding in his ears as he peered carefully back at the bed and the sleeping man.

Ivan grunted at the loss of warmth, the sound of Matthew tumbling from the bed causing him to sit upright a little bit, looking around and yawning widely before he caught sight of Matthew, grasping the boy and pulling him back onto the bed, pinning the thinner frame until Ivan could comfortably nuzzle against his neck once more, the man sighing happily as he did so.

The man’s face faded slowly back to that of a bear and after a few moments the furred nuzzle of the bear pressed to Matthew’s jaw and breathed a heavy, contented sigh. 

Matthew let out a few breaths as he trembled from being exposed to the cold air more than he did in his confusion from watching a man turn into a bear. His arms curled around Ivan’s ribs and he tilted his head so that he could bury his nose in soft fur. 

Oh, how he wished for Ivan that he could be that prince of a man he saw lying here moments ago, if only for Ivan; because Matthew felt that he already adored Ivan how he was, just like this, in this very moment.

The blonde pressed a kiss to the bears head before he fell asleep once more,his head swimming with thoughts of Ivan and the man he had begun to believe he had imagined. 

Ivan woke later with a yawn, rolling off of the creaking bed and lumbering into the kitchen to find something to drink, rubbing a large paw over his face when it began to itch and feel uncomfortable. Sitting down on the floor, both paws rubbed at his face and the bear let out a frustrated little roar before his fingers managed to rub at the offending areas.

Fingers…

Ivan pulled his hands back, blinking and staring at his long, pale fingers, blinking wide eyes and feeling over his face, the bear pelt that was thrown about his body the only thing keeping him relatively covered as he felt over his nose and cheeks, his entire visage feeling alien to him. 

Matthew had woken from the lack of Ivan’s warmth surrounding him; his hair brushing his cheek as he peered up at the ceiling before slowly sitting up. Outside he could see it still snowing and Matthew shivered, noticing the fireplace in his room was dim. 

Reaching for the cloak, Matthew clasped it over his shoulders as he padded across the room, the cloak reaching further than his sleeping gown and weighing heavily on his shoulders. It was nice and warm though and smelled distinctly of something that he just couldn’t seem to place as he shifted more logs into the fireplace then set out to find something he could eat.

The blonde quietly descended the stairs and peered into the kitchen, his eyes widening at seeing the man that was Ivan instead of the bear. He swallowed hard and pressed his fingers to his flush face before he rounded the corner, concern and curiosity all over his face.

“Ivan…?” Matthew started softly, head tilting as his curls brushed his cheek. “Are…are you alright?”

Ivan’s head snapped around and he frowned slightly, holding out his hands for the blonde to see, the silver tray that he had been using as a mirror clattering to the ground as he did so. He didn’t quite have a hang of words again, his throat managing to form a guttural growl as he looked over his own fingers and palms, continuing to feel over his own face and neck and hair as he stood in the kitchen on wobbly legs, the fur about his shoulders doing little to cover him further down. 

Tentatively, Matthew moved forward until he was standing in front of Ivan, his head tilted so he could peer up at the man’s face. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip for a moment before he carefully place a hand in Ivan’s, his fingers tracing the lines of his palm and the sensitive skin between his fingers as the other tentatively cupped the prince’s cheek.

The eyes were the same…those beautiful amethyst colored eyes were exactly the same as the bear’s, as the portraits, and Matthew had no doubt in his mind that this was Ivan. Still, he was worried for him and the hand against Ivan’s pam turned so he could grasp gently at long fingers before he pulled him to sit down at the heavy wooden table beside the kitchen’s hearth. 

Ivan frowned at the small hand tracing his own, his fingers reaching out clumsily, as if his depth perception had changed somewhat, grasping hold of Matthew’s and feeling it over, tracing along wrist and forearm and biceps before he gently ran his palm up Matthew’s throat to cup his cheek and jaw, looking over the blonde with an intense stare.

Gently tilting Matthew’s face this way and that, Ivan eventually managed to find his voice somewhat and he murmured out the blonde’s name.

“Matthew.” He murmured, clearing his throat softly. “Matthew… Matvey.”

Matthew smiled somewhat as he peered at Ivan’s face, a hand coming up to gently grasp at the one moving his face. He cupped Ivan’s hand and with his free one, moved to cup Ivan’s wrist as he nodded, his curls brushing their hands. 

“Yes…I’m Matthew. And…you’re Ivan,” the blonde smiled, soft and worried at the man, the thought of the curse being lifted never crossing Matthew’s mind. Surely…this was a trick or an illusion…it would end and he and Ivan would be at the exact same point at which they started.

Ivan was silent for a moment before he leaned forward tentatively and pressed his face to Matthew’s throat opposite the side he had cupped with his hand, breathing in the scent of tea and roses and warmth that was the blonde and letting out a heavy sigh afterwards. 

“The curse…” He murmured curiously before he tilted his eyes to the blonde’s own blue set, searching Matthew’s face silently. “Do you love me?” He asked slowly, blinking quietly. Because if Matthew didn’t love him… Then that left the idea that Ivan was the one who was open to love… And honestly he was not sure whether he did love the blonde or if he was simply so lonely that any company was comforting.

“Do you love me?” Matthew countered right back, soft and without hope or desire to hear Ivan say that he did. Because Matthew knew that he didn’t, that was not hard to imagine or see. He understood Ivan’s curse…and it tugged at his heartstrings but what was he to do? How could he fall in love with someone who wouldn’t ever love him back other than the object that set him free?

“I am greatly fond of you, Ivan,…and I want your curse to be lifted,” was Matthew’s soft, timid response, his hand gently patting at Ivan’s fingers before he pulled away, his body slipping out of Ivan’s hold like water through an open gate. 

Ivan growled at that response, his fingers grasping hold of Matthew’s wrist, only for the digits to become blunt once more, his eyes widening as he let out a distressed noise, tumbling out of the chair he had been seated in and sprawled over the table before he moved to stand on the floor, growling and snuffling as he pressed his paws to his large muzzle and sighed, glaring down at his too large paws and frame before he flopped over in front of the kitchen hearth, turning his back to Matthew as he did so. 

He couldn’t speak as a bear, and it felt like the greatest cruelty that he couldn’t tell Matthew that he was fond of the blonde too… It wasn’t love, he supposed, but it was a step closer than others had ever gotten. 

Matthew bit his lip, quiet as he moved about the kitchen and made the two of them a small supper of stew. It wasn’t much, Matthew didn’t have the heart to eat anymore, but he figured Ivan would. He poured a good helping into a deep bowl used for stirring baking ingredients, and then some tea into a deep soup saucer before he quietly approached the silent bear.

He placed down the food before he tentatively ran his fingers over the top of Ivan’s head, his head tilted as he watched the flicker of the fire dance on the water in Ivan’s eyes. “…I understand, Ivan…it’s okay. I’ll help you, you’ll see…and I won’t ask for anything in return,” the blonde promised before he stood, gathering the sides of the cloak around his form before he left the kitchen, his appetite lost.


	6. Chapter 6

Ivan’s changes seemed to come in almost random bursts over the next month or so. Eventually Ivan realized just why they seemed so random: They came when he did a particularly fond or gentle gesture towards Matthew. 

Cuddled up with the blonde to keep the smaller male warm, going to the kitchen with the intention of making something hot to drink or eat for Matthew, and even when he would simply want to run his fingers through soft curls. 

They were brief moments until one day where Ivan sighed and pressed a kiss to Matthew’s forehead as he tucked the blonde into layers of blankets and curled around the smaller male. 

Matthew had been half asleep, half awake, his body gradually starting to feel slightly under the weather from all of the intense cold he was not used to; so for a brief moment he had thought he imagined the sweet kiss. It could’ve been Papa when he was young and in bed with a fever, and he’d come in and read him stories and then kiss his heated face with worry. 

But it wasn’t…it was Ivan and that surprised Matthew so much that his eyes blinked open and focussed on the violet gaze, a cool hand raising to gently brush the pads of his fingers underneath gentle eyelashes. He smiled softly before he closed his eyes and tucked their foreheads together, the end of his nose gently brushing Ivan’s.

Ivan smiled and silently returned the gesture, closing his eyes and snuggling closer to the blonde, brushing their noses together as he sighed and felt warmth fill his chest. He felt almost giddy at the blonde being so close, even though they had slept together ever since the nights had gotten even colder. His fingers curled against the smaller male’s waist before he wrapped his arm fully around the blonde, breathing in the softer, warm breaths of the younger male as they laid together in a sea of blankets and pillows on the largest bed in the castle.

The pad of Matthew’s forefinger traced the corner of Ivan’s lips and the blonde smiled, his body relaxing bonelessly into Ivan’s arms. “You…you have a lovely smile,” he whispered, shy and quiet as he opened his eyes and peered at Ivan’s bright set of violet. Their noses brushed together perfectly as Matthew’s fingers slowly trailed down to cup the side of Ivan’s neck, his touch gentle and sweet and with the intent on bringing the prince comfort. 

Ivan let out a low purring noise at the touches to his neck, to tender scars from decades ago. His face was relaxed, the tension and frowns of his younger years absent as he nuzzled at the blonde fondly. He kissed at the fingertip pressed to his lips and sighed happily as he pulled Matthew closer, gentle and careful with the boy in a way that he hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. 

Ivan’s silence and lack of words was somewhat comforting to Matthew; as if they didn’t need to exchange something as simple as words to understand how each other felt. When Matthew closed his eyes and slid their legs together, weaving limbs and fingers in warmth and a gentle intimacy that was clearly on the verge of deep fondness and love; it felt right. It felt as if he was born to be next to Ivan and to feel his every heartbeat against his own. 

At least..that’s what Matthew liked to think, liked to imagine and it made falling for Ivan in a way he had begun to that much easier. Matthew pressed a gentle, fleeting kiss to Ivan’s cheek as his thigh slid against the older male’s, the warmth between them potent and wonderful.

Ivan gave a grunt at the suddenly intimate press of their bodies, his mouth brushing against Matthew’s cheek in a curious, questioning way, trailing down to the corner of soft lips as if asking permission, gentle and careful and soft. 

He didn’t know what this was, whether it was simply more of that gentle warmth that they were sharing or if Matthew was pushing forward in a way that Ivan was only slightly scared of doing. Either way, Ivan was quite certain that he’d do whatever the blonde wanted at this point, so wrapped around the smaller male’s little finger that he’d do anything. 

Matthew paused only a moment, eyes closing before he tilted his head, their lips brushing in a fleeting, barely there manner. The blonde’s heart was racing as he pressed their foreheads together, his fingers gently brushing along the older male’s bicep softly. He didn’t know what he was doing was right…if it was what was needed or wanted, but Matthew couldn’t bring it in himself to pull away, to turn his back on Ivan now.

Ivan let out a curious little noise, his lips capturing Matthew’s lower lip as he felt their mouths ghosting together, his fingers digging into the fabric of blankets wrapped around Matthew as they laid together, the larger male purring softly, rhythmically, as he pressed his thigh between Matthew’s gently, carefully, questioning as he did so. 

Matthew trembled far more than the cold could ever force him to, his lips pressing to Ivan’s as he let out a soft noise at the feel of the thigh between his own. His senses flared and his insides heated strangely, even as his fingers shook as he slowly slid them up Ivan’s arm to curl around his shoulder. Matthew wasn’t afraid of Ivan, no, but he did feel completely and utterly consumed by the man, his warmth and presence was everywhere, strong and constant. 

Ivan murmured softly, wordless sound that might have been Matthew’s name, rolling until the blonde, wrapped in blankets still, rests atop his own chest and stomach, allowing the blonde’s hips to rub against his own. Ivan wrapped his arms around Matthew’s frame, still layered with blankets, and arched his own body until he could roll their hips together in a long, heated stroke, repeating the gesture over and over as his mouth pressed to Matthew’s gently. 

Matthew let out a little shuddering sigh as he broke their gentle kiss and sat up, his thighs sliding on either side of Ivan’s hips. Carefully, he undid the blankets around his body, a light little flush on his cheeks the more layers he pulled off until he just in his night clothes and he was pressed flush against Ivan’s chest. The man was so warm, so inviting and comforting, Matthew held no fear in his heart towards him as he pressed their mouths together and hips rocked against Ivan’s.

Ivan growled and his fingers dug into the blonde’s hips, guiding the motions of the blonde’s hips and closing his eyes as he lifted his hips against Matthew’s roughly, feeling himself slide against every tender inch of flesh between the blonde’s hips. It had been so long since he had been human, since he had felt human warmth against himself. He had been a bear for so long and his encounters with other bears had been brief and few and far between. The sudden heat, the sudden desire, and the feeling of the thin frame in his hands, against his chest, was maddening. Ivan let out a noise similar to his roars, rolling Matthew until the blonde was pressed to the sheets and growling lowly as he pressed his face to soft curls and jaw, kissing and nipping and drawing his lips and nose against the thin bone and soft flesh. 

Closing his eyes, Matthew let out a soft noise as his hands curled behind the back of Ivan’s head and thread into his soft hair. His head tilted so his lips pressed to Ivan’s temple, as a hand slid down Ivan’s back, his fingers tracing the heated spine that was already exposed from the little to no clothing Ivan’s transformations left him in. He knew Ivan was physically stunted when it came to human contact…but he wasn’t just going to ignore him and push him away. Matthew wanted Ivan close….he wanted Ivan to want him, too.

Ivan growled as he dragged his mouth over Matthew’s neck, trying desperately to remember previous lovers, remember how he had touched them, but all that came to mind were teeth ensnared in fur and sharp snarls and growls and a sharp mounting gesture. 

But Matthew wasn’t a female bear. He was a human. A child, small and slender and delicate and Ivan fisted his hands in the bedding as he rubbed his hips against Matthew’s, pushing lightly, gently, feeling the soft give of flesh beneath him and pulling back only to push again, continuing the motions, careful and gentle despite the desire to just thrust into the blonde and have his way. Ivan snarled into Matthew’s curls as he continued the rolling motion of his hips, gently working himself into the blonde, speeding up as he felt the flesh give and give beneath him. 

Matthew whimpered and did his best not to cry out or move too much, fearing that it would only disrupt Ivan’s movement. He did however, open his eyes, his hands moving to gently cup Ivan’s face, his fingers trembling but gentle as they ran over human features in an attempt to remind the prince that he was indeed, human. 

He had always been; he just needed to remember it as so.

The blonde whispered Ivan’s name, even as tears glossed his eyes and he screwed them shut to keep them from falling, desperate to keep his emotions together as to not accidentally set Ivan off.

Ivan’s teeth sank into his own forearm as he bent his head, his hips still and his fingers ripping through the sheets as he did so, the scent of blonde filling the air as Ivan pulled back completely from the blonde with a snarl, blood speckling the pale skin as he did so. 

Matthew winced as the scent of blood met his senses and instantly panic and fear ripped through his body in little tremors and waves. His eyes lifted, intent on looking at Ivan, but instead landing on the mirror that sat against the wall opposite of the bed. Instead of pale, taught flesh, Matthew could easily see the hunched form of a massive white bear, his face paling as he peered at Ivan who was indeed slowly transforming back into the creature. 

The blood speckling his body wasn’t his own, and Matthew’s breath hitched as he attempted to press his fingers to Ivan’s wound, to keep the blood from getting worse even as his panic still raked through his body in dizzying waves.

Ivan growled and pulled back from the bed, growling lowly as he hunched against the furniture, his fur standing on end as he panted heavily, the enormous creature laying down slowly as he sighed and breathed heavily. 

He had scared Matthew, he had hurt him, he was quite certain that Matthew hated him now and as he curled up at the foot of the bed. 

Matthew was silent as he watched Ivan move before he slowly got up, a slight limp in his step as he moved to the little porcelain wash basin on the opposite side of the room. Dipping a soft towel into the water, Matthew slowly approached Ivan and settled on the floor in front of him, his head tilted down as he softly gathered the bear’s paw in his hand and pressed the towel to his self inflicted wound. 

“….you…you didn’t hurt me…and I….it’s..it’s all my fault. I thought that…you..and I could…I mean,” Matthew sighed shakily, his face tilted away from Ivan’s as frustrated tears swam in his eyes, his focus attempting to stay on cleaning the older male’s injury. “I’m sorry…we shouldn’t have…it isn’t your fault..”

Ivan peered at Matthew’s face, a soft whine escaping him as he leaned forward and gently licked at the tears flowing down his face, nosing at the human’s face and gently nudging their heads together in both an apology and an acceptance of one. 

It has been a mistake… It wasn’t the time for that. Tilting his head Ivan caught the bedding with his teeth and pulled the blankets on top of Matthew, nudging at them until they were wrapped around the blonde before he gently laid his head down on the smaller male’s lap and let out a low sigh. 

—

The next supply run had the young soldier looking over Matthew with concern, blinking at the sight of bruises and a couple of shallow bite marks along the blonde’s neck and shoulder. “Where did those come from?” The man asked with a concerned look, the immediate thought that came to mind making him feel his throat clench in horror.

Matthew slowly looked up from accepting a box of fresh vegetables, his eyes tired and full of conflicted feelings of sorrow and deep concern for Ivan. He had almost missed what the soldier had asked before he touched his fingers to his neck and shook his head before he adjusted a small shawl around his shoulders better.

“It’s nothing….there are a lot of broken things around here that I’m stupid and I run into…Ivan’s taking good care of me,” Matthew mumbled, not wanting anyone to think anymore less of Ivan.

The young soldier was quiet before he nodded. “Your Papa sent a letter with me.” He held out the envelope to the blonde. “He looked worried.”

Placing down the box, Matthew gently took the letter, his fingers brushing over his father’s handwriting before he shook his head. “I’m sure he is…worried that I’m not getting a fortune to him fast enough,” the blonde mumbled as he placed down the letter on the table and slowly sat in the chair in front of it. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear about his Papa’s adventures with women and how much he supposedly missed Matthew, but it was nice to see something as simple and familiar as handwriting as he finally convinced himself to open the letter.

The letter was surprisingly brief and focused on Matthew not writing, questions about the prince and whether Matthew would be coming home soon for one reason or another. It ended on the note of how Francis was considering coming by for a visit if the government would let him.

By the time Matthew finished reading the letter Ivan had come to nose about the new supplies, the bear quiet and almost skittish as he moved to rest his head on Matthew’s lap, nosing at the boy’s stomach and letting out a mournful sigh. His transformations were becoming less frequent and no matter what he did to comfort Matthew or gently initiate contact he didn’t change. 

He couldn’t even apologize to the blonde or murmur an endearment, something along the lines of “I love you”. That made his chest ache more than any blow or illness could. 

Matthew instantly set down the letter as he brushed his fingers over Ivan’s head, his own forehead tilting so that he could press a kiss to Ivan’s muzzle. “How are you feeling, Ivan?” Matthew asked softly, his focuse intent on the bear in his lap even though his shoulders were weary and he felt like doing nothing more than laying down all day. 

He wasn’t sure if it was psychological or real, but Matthew hadn’t been feeling too well ever since that night, and by the looks of it, neither did Ivan.

“It’ll be Christmas soon…we could make a nice dinner…something that would make you happy,” Matthew mumbled, his eyes closing as his nose pressed to Ivan’s head.

Ivan let out a soft whine and he pressed his face gently to Matthew’s stomach, not wanting to think about anything much less food at the moment. He just wanted to curl up with the blonde and apologize over and over, to get rid of the gnawing feelings of guilt that clutched at his stomach and chest. 

Most of all he wanted to kiss Matthew and tell him how much he needed him now for his own sanity rather than for any hope of a curse beign lifted. 

“Ivan…? Ivan I…I wanted to ask you something,” Matthew started, feeling his shoulders slump as his hands moved idly over the bear’s head. It took him a moment to figure out words, to sort emotions as he drew in a shuddering breath. “…even if…if I fail to help you…would you still…want to see me? Because I…I haven’t been much help…and I..I know your hope must be down at this point but…I would still very much like to see you…,” Matthew drew in a shaky breath, his eyes closing as his throat clenched. “…I have become..so very fond of you, Ivan…t-that I’m so selfish and I don’t want to never…n-not see you again.”

As Matthew spoke Ivan slowly began to change again, his head still resting on Matthew’s lap as he pressed his face to the blonde’s stomach, his fingers wrapping around Matthew’s waist as he let out a shaky breath. “I love you.” He whispered softly, choked and pained as he clutched at the smaller male desperately. “Don’t leave me.” His voice was hoarse and his words were clumsy and soft, but they could be heard and Ivan repeated them softly as he pressed his face to the blonde’s stomach. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I…Ivan?” Matthew mumbled, his eyes wide and watery as he peered down at the man barely clothed with this head in his lap. He paused before he ran his fingers through silvery soft hair, his head tilting to press kisses to Ivan’s head. “I don’t want to leave you…I want to stay….I want to stay here with you,” the blonde mumbled, his arms curling around what he could reach of Ivan as he pressed his nose into the older male’s hair and struggled not to cry. It was strange… Matthew’s heart was twisting and clenching just at the very thought of being away from Ivan.

If that wasn’t love…Matthew didn’t know what was.


	7. Chapter 7

It was almost a year when Francis arrived at the overgrown palace, fidgetting as he pushed open the door to the front of the castle and looked around. Everything was quite beautiful, if covered in dirt and dust and slowly rotting away just like everything else. It spoke of past luxury and beauty left to rot and the Frenchman quiet wandered through the rooms. 

Ivan was flopped atop Matthew, the man having stayed in his human form for quite some time, despite his features occasionally slipping into more bear-like expressions of frustration or anger when he couldn’t seem to explain his feelings or get his point across.

To any outsider it would look like an enormous polar bear was lounging pretty much in Matthew’s lap, when really Ivan was just laying with his head and shoulders in Matthew’s lap so that he could pull the blonde down for soft, playful kisses.

Laughing softly, Matthew gently pushed at Ivan’s shoulder so that his head could be against his thighs. “Ivan…I’m trying to read,” the blonde chastised sweetly as he bent to place a kiss on the man’s nose. “Knowing now, that this was indeed the legendary sword called Excalibur, Arthur tried to pull it from the stone. He tried once to no avail. He tried a second time, but still, he could not pull it out. Then, for the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword…and there arose from the people a great shout,” Matthew smiled at another kiss to his cheek, his head turning to capture Ivan’s lips before pressing him back down again. “Arthur is king.”

The blonde was interrupted from his book and Ivan in his lap by the sound of a gasp, his head turning around quickly to see his father lingering in the doorway. “P-Papa?”

Francis’ hand covered his mouth at the sight of Matthew kissing the enormous bear, kissing the animal in the same way that Francis himself had kissed many lovers before. The enormous bear rolled onto it’s feet, standing towering over the intruder with a glare, letting out a roar as his hackles raised. 

“Ma-Matthieu!” Francis protested, stepping back slightly as Ivan’s teeth remained bared and he stood over Matthew’s still seated form. 

“Ivan! Ivan…wait..,” Matthew stood, his book clattering to the ground as he brushed his hands to Ivan’s chest to give him a gentle push. “That’s my father…Ivan..wait..,” the blonde pleaded before he turned to face the Frenchman, his eyebrows knit with concern. “Papa…? Papa…how did you get here? W-why…why are you here?” Matthew asked as he took a step towards him, confusion all over his face.

“I… I came to check on you, I came with the soldiers and… Oh god, Matthew, what is going on what have you been doing here?” Francis asked, still in shock as he stared at his son and then at the bear. “Matthew, what have you done? Have you-” The man’s hand covered his own mouth before he could ask, watching as the bear growled and pressed it’s side against Matthew to shield the blonde. 

“Ivan…Ivan, please…,” the blonde worried softly, his hand running gently over the animal’s spine. “Papa…it..it isn’t what you’re thinking…Ivan would never hurt me…he…he’s good and kind,” the blonde shook his head, peering at his father across the space between them. 

Ivan growled and nosed at Matthew’s hip, gently trying to reassure the blonde as he watched Francis. This man, father or no, was upsetting Matthew and Ivan didn’t like it. 

“Matthew, you need to leave.” Francis stated with a weak, worried voice. “You need to come home, this place isn’t good for you, it’s… It’s making you sick and making you do h-horrible things.”

“No,” Matthew instantly shook his head, his hand on Ivan’s head as he took a step back, head shaking. “..no..I’m not sick! And I haven’t done anything horrible…no..,” the blonde frowned firmly as he knelt beside Ivan, his arms curling around the bear’s neck gently. “I’m not leaving Ivan. I won’t.”

Ivan growled at the mention of Matthew leaving and Francis took another step backwards as the man watched Matthew and Ivan quietly. 

“Matthew, have you… Have you done anything… Anything intimate with… With Ivan?”

“What…?” Matthew rose his head, his face tilting to peer at his father, eyes wide and filled with disbelief. “You…you actually think that I…Papa…you don’t understand,” the blonde shook his head, standing and moving as to try and put himself between his father and Ivan. “…Ivan isn’t just an animal…he’s a man..a good man..and I…I care for him very deeply, Papa…” He didn’t want to say love..not like this…not yet…not when his father was looking so horribly down on them at this moment.

“Matthew, he’s a bear.” Francis stated softly, staring at the blonde across the room from him. “Look at him, Matthew, please.”

“I can look at him just fine, Papa! He’s a man! He’s the Czar! His..his curse makes him appear a bear…but he’s..he’s more than that…he’s everything more than that…and I..,”Matthew shook his head, his fingers trailing over Ivan’s fur gently. “…I won’t leave him.”

Francis pursed his lips and turned to leave, covering his mouth and trying to contain his sobs. It must have been the cold, the loneliness, the sheer amount of time spent alone and without anyone but a bear as company. This was a sick joke, a sick joke that had been going on for years. 

Turning to kneel in front of Ivan, Matthew kissed the top of the bear’s muzzle, his fingers stroking though soft fur. “I’ll..I’ll be right back Ivan, I promise…I just..I want to say goodbye…he’s…he’s my Papa…and I don’t think I’ll ever see him again,” the blonde whispered, eyes wet before he hurried to catch up with Francis. “Papa…! Wait!”

Francis turned and gave Matthew a tight hug as the boy barrelled into his arms, trying so very hard not to sob as he clutched at Matthew’s thin frame. “Matthew, what are you doing? Why are you doing this?” The man asked gently. “Please just come home.”

“No, Papa, I won’t,” the blonde murmured into his father’s shoulder, clinging hard to his frame, so familiar and full of gentle memories that made it difficult for Matthew to pull back. “…I know what I’m doing, Papa…I…Ivan is…you have to believe me…and I…I think I love him so…,” the blonde curled his fingers together under his chin as he lifted his eyes to peer at his father’s face. “He’s wonderful and good…you’ll see..someday you’ll understand that Ivan is…is more than what he seems.”

Francis gave his son a tight hug before releasing him slowly when he heard the shouts of one of the soldiers that had given him a ride to the castle. He needed to go, needed to make arrangements… “I love you, Matthew, so much.”

“I love you, too, Papa,” Matthew smiled as he gave his father a kiss on the cheek before he moved away, waving at him once before going to find Ivan. He had a good feeling…and even though his father was weary and worried, he knew that once Ivan’s spell was broken for good…he’d understand.

They’d all understand.

—

It only took a day for Francis to return and when he did, Ivan snarled as he heard the sound of more than one cart, his hackles raised as he heard more boots than those of the typical number of soldiers arriving. 

When the hunters and trappers arrived in the room that Ivan and Matthew had been laying and reading books in, Ivan reared onto his hind legs and let out a roar, startling the hunters but not causing them to stop and turn away. Several ropes were wrapped around Ivan’s body, his neck and paws and shoulders, everything tied and pinned to the ground, Ivan letting out a steady roar as he was dragged towards the stairs. 

“Clear, we got him!”

A pair of men grasped hold of Matthew, coming into the room and wrapping the blonde in a sheet and dragged him down the stairs as Ivan’s handlers struggled to get the bear down the stairs. 

“No! Ivan! Stop it! Let him go!” Matthew cried, over and over again, but the men weren’t listening as he struggled with all of the strength he had. Tears pricked in his eyes at the sheer frustration, his feet kicking at the men’s legs in an attempt to get them to drop him “Ivan! Stop it! You’ll hurt him!”

Ivan let out a roar at the sight of Matthew being carried off, the bear struggling as he saw Francis standing with several soldiers, the Frenchman waiting for his son to be brought out and loaded into one of the carts. 

Matthew continued to cry the Czar’s name, fighting to be released, arguing and demanding that they not hurt the bear before he was placed inside one of the carts and the doors shut tight, its windows barred. The blonde instantly fussed with the sheet to remove it, his hands and feet instantly kicking at the door to try and get it open. “Let me out! Ivan!” he cried, tears sliding down his cheeks before he caught sight of his father standing with the other soldiers. “…Papa…? Papa?! How could you!? Let me out this instant!”

“Matthew, this is for your own good.” Francis tried to reason with the blonde. “You’re very sick… You need to be taken to see a doctor.”

“You’re sick!” Matthew argued, his hands shaking at the door, trying to get it loose. “He’s a man…I trusted you! How…how could you?! Let me out!” the blonde continued to fight until he moved onto his back, lifting his legs, strong from years and years of dance up to kick without mercy at the doors. He wasn’t going to give up…everyone else always, always gave up on Ivan…and Matthew wasn’t going to do that to him. Not when he loved him as much as he did. The doors rattled and Matthew cried out as he kicked harder and harder, enough to dislodge one before he was slipping through the opening, his feet flying over snow and broken cobblestones as he headed straight for where he heard Ivan’s roars. “Ivan!”

Ivan was already locked into his cage to be moved when Matthew arrived, the bear tied down to the bottom of the metal item, panting heavily as Matthew approached the bars just by his head. He was exhausted and as he tilted his head to look at Matthew he felt tears in his eyes as he blinked up at the blonde. This was it, this was how it was going to end for him. 

“Ivan! Ivan..,” Matthew whimpered as he slid his hands through the bars, his fingers smoothing over soft fur and the bear’s gentle muzzle, tears sliding down his cheeks as he shook his head. “I’ll..I’ll get you out,” he promised, rattling at the bars, even though he knew he didn’t have the strength to damage the cage. Whimpering with frustration, the blonde lowered to his knees, his face level with the bottom of the cage as he reached his hands through the bars, his fingers smoothing over Ivan’s nose. “D-don’t give up, Ivan…I’m not leaving you…”

Ivan managed to stretch out his neck, inching forward until his nose pressed to Matthew’s, staring at soft blue eyes before he let his tongue flick out to lick at the blonde’s lips. “I love you.” Ivan managed to whine out softly, his eyes sad as he watched Matthew silently. 

Trembling, Matthew closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Ivan’s nose, his cheek gently nuzzling the soft muzzle that he could reach before he peered at the bear’s face. “I love you, too, Ivan..”

Ivan smiled sadly at the blonde before a low noise of pain escaped him, his mouth opening in a dull roar of pain as skin and fur peeled away from his body like a burn, his eyes closing as his facial structure retracted into his face, his muzzle shortening and his teeth and jaw changing to better fit his skull. His limbs shortened, shrank, bone snapping to fit back into a human configuration and within moments the man was in a puddle of blood and flesh that smelled burnt as he lay in the bottom of the cart, people watching with expressions of sheer horror at the sight of Ivan, man at last, laying, panting, in the bottom of the cart dressed in little more than a bloodstained tunic and breeches. 

Matthew had pulled back slowly, his eyes wide as he peered at Ivan’s body, his hands pressed to his mouth. It was horrifying to watch…but the sheer thought that the curse had finally, at long last, been lifted was entirely humbling. 

Ivan had waited so long for this…Matthew only wished he could’ve helped him sooner. 

Tentatively stepping forward, Matthew reached through the bars, his fingers managing to reach the top of Ivan’s head where he could smooth through disheveled hair, his eyes wide and worried.

“…Ivan…?”

Ivan tilted his head, offering a soft, weak smile to the blonde before he grasped Matthew’s wrist, tilting his head to press a soft kiss to the blonde’s palm. The man shrugged off the chains that had held him, standing within the cage slowly and causing a flurry of motion. Soldiers unlocked the cage and all but screamed apologies as Ivan stepped out, the Czar having no eye for anyone but Matthew, his arms wrapped tightly around the blonde in a matter of moments, not caring that he was getting blood everywhere. 

Tears sliding down his face, Matthew curled his arms tightly around Ivan, his hands clutching at the back of shoulders as he tilted his head up to brush their foreheads together. He didn’t care about the blood, about the soldiers kneeling and begging for forgiveness, the only one mattering being Ivan. Smiling softly, Matthew ran a few fingers down Ivan’s cheek, gently wiping off spatters of blood before he pressed a gentle kiss to the Czar’s lips.

Ivan smiled as he clutched close to Matthew, gentle and firm as he nuzzled at soft curls and murmured how much he loved the blonde. How much he adored him. 

There was a rumble and Ivan tilted his head towards his castle, watching as the building tilted and cracked and crumbled to the ground, the roses of the garden withering and dying as soft screams filled the air and the spirits trapped within fled from the grounds, the spell finally broken for them as well.


	8. Chapter 8: Finale

Ivan walked through the streets of Paris, Matthew on his arm as he moved with the easy languid grace of a ruler. They had just come from a visit with Francis and his second wife, staying only long enough for a glass of wine and then instantly leaving to amuse themselves about the city for the remainder of their visit. 

“What do you think you would have done if the spell hadn’t been broken?” Ivan asked, tilting his head to his husband, decked in fine fabrics and gems, curls pinned up delicately and held there with pearl hair pins. He looked beautiful, elegant, and he moved with the familiar easy grace of a dancer, making him all the more suited to the delicate lives of royalty. Ivan never put aside a chance to spoil the blonde and was reminded for the millionth time exactly why.

Tilting his head back in a soft little laugh, Matthew curled his arms around the one of Ivan’s closest to him. “Well, that’s easy, my love. I would’ve squeezed between those bars and stayed with you. Even as a bear, I loved you…almost as much as I love you now,” the blonde smiled, his head tilting to press ever so slightly against the curve of Ivan’s shoulder as they walked, the air cool and pleasant as the street lamps were slowly starting to light.

“You just love me more now because I can show you exactly how much I love and want you, hmm?” Ivan teased gently as he tilted his head to kiss Matthew’s temple. “Of course there are some things that I miss about being a bear. Being able to lay on top of you to keep you from going anywhere is one.”

Laughing brightly, Matthew shook his head and moved to stand in front of Ivan as they walked, his hands reaching down to tangle with the older man’s. He came to a stop just in front of a golden fountain, old and opulent and grand, but Matthew only had eyes for his husband. “Do you know why, really, that I love you more now, Ivan?” the blonde asked sweetly as he leaned slightly closer to the taller male. “And don’t play coy with me…you know you could lay on top of me just as easily and keep me in one place for days on end.”

“Why, little one?” Ivan asked with a smile, pressing his nose to Matthew’s gently, his eyes peering down into Matthew’s fondly.

“Because now, you are happy. You smile and laugh…the day we were wed, I swear I even saw you cry, if just a little,” Matthew smiled as he leaned up to brush their noses together. “I would’ve given anything to make you smile…and now I have the pleasure of seeing it all the time…that’s what I love now the most, Ivan. How absolutely happy you are…,” the blonde tilted his head, smiling teasingly. “…of course, there are other perks, Darling, but none as important..”

Ivan smiled as he pressed his forehead to Matthew’s, cupping full cheeks gently in his palms. “I love you…. You are the reason I smile, the only reason, and I don’t know what I would do if I had never met you…” The older male wrapped his arms around Matthew and tugged the blonde close, pulling a soft kiss from Matthew’s lips gently. “My beautiful, wonderful Matthew.”

“I love you, too, Ivan…,” Matthew smiled, his hands gently smoothing down the front of Ivan’s coat, his forehead softly brushing to his husband’s. “..and I would’ve still loved you, no matter what had happened,” the blonde smiled, his head tilting into Ivan’s palms. 

Ivan smiled as he pressed his lips to Matthew’s once more, pulling him closer so that he could wrap his arms around Matthew’s torso. “I will love you until the day I die.”

“I’m sure I will love you much longer than that,” Matthew teased softly, his arms curling around to trail on Ivan’s back, his lips pressing theirs together for a soft kiss before he tilted his head to nuzzle gently at the curve of a strong shoulder. 

Strong arms pinned Matthew close, the older male drawing out the kiss as long as he could before pulling back and smiling down at Matthew with lidded eyes. “Let’s go to the hotel.” He murmured against the blonde’s soft cheek and curls, his fingers trailing over the small of Matthew’s back gently.

Smiling softly, Matthew gently grasped Ivan’s hand, and together walked with him the rest of the way towards their hotel, the doorman graciously letting them in, asking them softly if they needed anything, which the blonde kindly refused. Once inside their room, a grand suite that the hotel had tried to make look as royal as would be expected, Matthew toed out of his shoes and began to undo his coat, his head tilting to smile at Ivan over his shoulder.

Ivan smirked as he helped Matthew shrug out of his coat, the older male smoothing his fingers over Matthew’s shoulders, feeling the loose, soft fabric of the drop-waisted dress that had been quite in fashion and caught Matthew’s eye. Ivan tugged at the sash that rested low on Matthew’s hips, pressing his lips to the blonde’s neck as he pushed his own hips against Matthew’s. It had been quite amusing when he had seen women copying Matthew across Europe and the Americas, how the boyish figure had come into style soon after he and Matthew had been married. Though Ivan would admit that Matthew set quite the example.

Smiling softly, Matthew reached a hand back to tangle in Ivan’s hair before slowly turning in his arms, his head tilting up to press a deep, loving kiss to the man’s lips. His hands smoothed over Ivan’s front, gently pushing off his own coat, his fingers slowly working at the jacket and shirt underneath. “…what are you thinking about…?” the blonde hummed softly, his nose brushing to Ivan’s as he pulled him closer and back through the front room into the bedroom, his lips pressing theirs together in long, slow kisses.

“How beautiful you are.” Ivan murmured, gently bunching the skirt in a fist, causing it to rise up along Matthew’s thighs, revealing the garters and tops of his stockings. “How lucky I am to have you.”

“Ivan…,” Matthew smiled, playfully brushing Ivan’s hands away. “You don’t..you don’t have to say that…,” the blonde leaned forward, nipping teasingly at the man’s lower lip. “All I did was love you…you gave me the chance to…so that makes me lucky too, right?” Matthew hummed before turning his back to Ivan once more. “Unzip me..?”

Ivan smirked and pressed a kiss to Matthew’s neck. “I’m incredibly lucky.” He murmured, pulling down the zipper and letting his teeth follow the path down the delicate curve of Matthew’s spine, nipping and trailing gently over the soft skin, sucking a dark mark at the small of Matthew’s back once he had the zipper undone and let it fall off of the blonde’s thin frame to pool at his feet. 

Humming softly, Matthew reached back to grasp Ivan’s wrists gently, bringing the pale hands to his abdomen where he directed his husband’s hands all over his upper body, his head dropping gently onto the curve of the older male’s shoulder. “So am I…,” the blonde teased, his face turning to press gentle kisses and nibbles to Ivan’s neck.

Ivan smiled as he stood behind the blonde, shedding his own coat and shirt before he lifted Matthew into his arms, laughing softly at the blonde’s limbs momentarily flailing. He tossed Matthew gently onto the bed, moving to let his body straddle Matthew’s own, pulling soft kisses from full lips as he did so. “I love you so much.” He murmured against Matthew’s mouth, smiling as he did so.

“I love you, too, Ivan…,” Matthew smiled, his cheeks pink from the warmth of the room and the gentle laughter that pushed past his lips as he reached up to tug Ivan closer, his stocking clad legs curling around the older male’s waist. “..so very, very much,” the blonde purred, his lips pressing kisses to Ivan’s pale face lovingly.

Ivan smiled as he tugged Matthew’s underthings off, tossing them aside and smoothing his hand over the smooth silk of the blonde’s stockings, rolling his hips forward against Matthew’s to gently ignite the nerves between Matthew’s legs, waiting until the blonde relaxed before he began to fit his hips against Matthew’s own. 

Sighing happily, content, Matthew purred and lifted his arms to curl gently around Ivan’s ribs, his hands brushing along pale skin, over well memorized spine and dips and curves that the blonde loved dearly. Lifting his body slightly, Matthew pressed their hips together, a little gasp of Ivan’s name pushing past his lips against the older male’s ear. He pulled back slightly, cheeks a soft pink as he brushed his fingers along Ivan’s lips. “You tease…”

“You love it.” Ivan murmured as he moved to lean back against the headboard of the bed, Matthew straddling his hips as he moved his length to press into Matthew, smiling as he stole a kiss from Matthew’s lips. He felt his insides shudder at the sudden heat that he was surrounded by and let out a groan, rolling his hips back and forth as he waited for Matthew to adjust to the intrusion, trying to get as much of the sensation of the blonde’s insides rippling around him before he moved. 

“N-not…not as much as I love you,” the blonde teased slightly, his lips planting a kiss on Ivan’s lips as he slowly slid down his length, his hands sliding up to grip strong shoulders. Matthew clenched his body tightly around Ivan, his lips pressing kisses all over his face before pulling back with a little smirk, his hips shifting forward in slow, lazy circles.

Ivan purred as he nipped at Matthew’s lips, gentle as his fingers firmly guided Matthew’s hips into more desperate circles, slipping in and out of the blonde as he nuzzled at Matthew’s cheek. “I love you too, little one. So much.” His fingers rubbed over Matthew’s hips gently before he firmly fitted their hips together once more, thrusting into the blonde roughly.

Tilting his head back, Matthew cried out, Ivan’s name slipping past his lips along with quite filthy phrases in French, his face reddening as he planted his hands on the older males abdomen. Purring, Matthew spread his thighs wider, his hands sliding up Ivan’s chest to grip his shoulders as he leaned forward slightly and started to move his lower half up and down, moaning at the feel of every single inch of his lover’s length.

Ivan moaned gently, his fingers pushing and pulling Matthew in an easy rhythm, one hand wrapped around the blonde’s length while the other gently guided Matthew’s hips up and down. It didn’t take long for Ivan to lose much semblance of gentleness with the blonde, pulling Matthew close and pressing his lips to the blonde’s. Soft bites and rough motions made Ivan gently push Matthew to the bed, his mouth trailing over Matthew’s neck and shoulder.

Smiling breathlessly, Matthew tilted his head to press a kiss to Ivan’s temple before he slid his legs out and up, his knees shifting over his husband’s shoulders with ease. Tangling his fingers in silvery hair, the blonde cried out at the bites and motions that made his skin flush and warm and pant Ivan’s name over and over again.

Ivan groaned as he moved against Matthew, feeling a shuddering clench of his abdomen before the sensation simply vanished and his spine arched roughly as his hips were forced against Matthew, a loan groan of Matthew’s name slid from his lips. 

Crying out Ivan’s name, Matthew arched his hips as he felt Ivan’s body and his own following right after. Panting softly, face red and lips wet, Matthew slowly slid his thighs off of Ivan’s shoulders, his limbs trembling as he ran his fingers lovingly through silvery hair.

Ivan smiled as he laid atop Matthew, pressing his fingers to Matthew’s cheeks, pulling a soft kiss from the blonde’s lips. “I love you, beautiful darling.” Ivan murmured as he pulled more soft kisses. 

“And I love you, too,” Matthew hummed softly, his body shifting to curl them both on their sides, his head fitting against Ivan’s shoulder. “…I love you so very…very much,” the blonde murmured, his hair combs lost on the bed, his curls strewn and slightly damp as he clutched an arm across Ivan’s chest and cradled him close. 

Ivan smiled and pressed his lips to Matthew’s, smiling down at Matthew’s flushed face before he murmured gently, “Beautiful.”

The year was 1916 and Ivan had found the one person who could break his spell… And now he could spend the rest of his life with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the story! Please feel free to drop a comment!


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